


Memory of Cloth

by Aelaer



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon - Book, Character Study, Drawing, F/M, Illustrations, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Canon, Romance, Tolkien Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelaer/pseuds/Aelaer
Summary: A few days after she made the choice to pledge her troth to Aragorn, Arwen searched for a cloak to better suit him when he traveled again over the Hithaeglir. Instead, she found an old cedar trunk with her mother’s name carefully etched into the wood.Written for Tolkien Secret Santa Week in 2019.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14
Collections: Tolkien Secret Santa 2019





	Memory of Cloth

**Author's Note:**

> Finally bringing this off tumblr to AO3.
> 
> While I didn’t sign up for the exchange proper, I wanted to give myself the chance to dip a toe into the Tolkien fandom again. I signed up to be a pinch hitter (to make a fill should a Secret Santa not deliver) for the @officialtolkiensecretsanta exchange on tumblr in 2019. I got the opportunity of serving this fill for @kingofthereunitedkingdom. Aragorn fans gotta stick together, and Aragorn/Arwen is just so wholesome.
> 
> Along with the fic gift there is also a mathom in the form of a near decade-old sketch that fit with the fic, and helped inspire me to figure out what I was going to write for this fill.
> 
> There’s a lot of little lore references in the ficlet; don’t hesitate to ask any questions, for any readers with them. :)

_Lothlórien, TA 2980_

A few days after she made the choice to pledge her troth to Aragorn, Arwen searched for a cloak to better suit him when he traveled again over the Hithaeglir. Instead, she found an old cedar trunk with her mother’s name carefully etched into the wood.

She unlatched the case and pushed aside lavender sachets that had long since lost their scent to unveil the contents. It seemed to be mostly underlinens, one of her mother’s many trunks that did not make it to Imladris after her departure from Middle-earth. It would explain why it was so easily forgotten.

After digging a little deeper, Arwen paused as she saw cornflower blue. Surely it was not—

It _was_. She stood up to fully pull out a large blanket spun of cornflower blue thread and embroidered with little white flowers and stars. Faded grass stains and frayed ages revealed its true wear and usage.

This was her favorite blanket as a child. She spent decades dragging it with her all over Imladris, and her mother painstakingly mended every tear and washed all the stains with a patience borne only by parents. A smile touched the edges of her lips and she went for the door of the flet to air it out.

Arwen gave it a good few shakes before she heard a somewhat bemused, “Lady Arwen?” come from below her. Standing at the foot of her flet was Aragorn, his habitually formal manner making an appearance when there was chance of others within Caras Galadhon overhearing him.

She, unlike he, cared less about what her grandmother’s people thought of her lack of formality with the man she had chosen to betroth. She had her grandparents’ approval; that was all she needed. (She would worry about her father later.) And so she smiled down at him and said, “Estel, hello! Sorry, am I late?” She glanced out to the sky.

He shook his head, then looked to the blanket. His brow was furrowed as he slowly called out, “Is that the… cloak you spoke of?”

Arwen laughed; that explained his look. “It would be poor camouflage for your travels. I will tell you; give me a moment.”

She shut the door to the structure built upon the large flet and descended the ladder down with the natural ease of Elves, the large blanket slung over one shoulder. Aragorn was waiting for her at the bottom of the ladder, hands clasped in front of him and his eyes ever smiling.

“This was mine when I was a child,” she said, offering it to him to inspect.

He took it and his lips quirked upward at one of the larger remnants of a grass stain. “I see it was used well. It’s very large for a child’s blanket.”

Arwen rolled her eyes to herself as she admitted, “I wanted a blanket larger than the one on my parents’ bed. My mother, bless her patience, decided to indulge me.”

Aragorn’s fingers stilled. “This was woven by Lady Celebrían?”

“My mother, yes,” she said with some amusement. Aragorn still remained still and she realized that his smiling eyes had become somber. “Estel?”

“I beg your pardon,” he said immediately. “I am—the lady Celebrían was little mentioned when I lived in Imladris, and never with levity, at least in front of me. I was just surprised.”

Her own face grew somber and she looked down at the blanket. Aragorn handed it back to her wordlessly and she rubbed an off-white star between her fingers. “My father does not encourage it, and my brothers only remember their grief rather than the happy times.” She met his eyes and offered him a slight smile. “But I was able to find healing here and I can remember her in better days.”

And it was good that she did because it came to her with a full finality that she would never see her mother again.

Arwen refused to let that thought consume her now. Rather she placed the large blanket upon Aragorn’s shoulders like a cloak. “If you do want it as a cloak, however, I can make some adjustments to it.”

Aragorn’s gaze lightened as she changed the subject and he chuckled. “I believe it suits better as a blanket.”

She hummed in thought, then suddenly curled right next to him and pulled the blanket across herself, effectively trapping him. “Yes, I believe you are right. It makes an excellent blanket.”

He laughed aloud in surprise, then relaxed and settled closer against her. She tugged the blanket about them a little tighter.

Let any passing Elf stare. This was her choice, and she was unashamed of it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first work I wrote solely for the Tolkien fandom since 2011. I have no idea how active the LOTR community, particularly Aragorn fans, are on AO3.
> 
> I have a series of one-shots all within the same universe focusing on Aragorn and his life that I wrote well over a decade ago. That series is about 60 one-shots long, IIRC. While they exist on other sites, I have yet to bring them over here. Is there anyone interested in seeing this series brought over here and updated to better match my current writing abilities? Again, I have no idea what the Aragorn fan community looks like these days, so I want to gauge if there's interest before doing work on it. Any feedback is appreciated!


End file.
